First Lessons
by Lady of Termina
Summary: In which Korra learns.


Disclaimer: I do not own _The Legend of Korra._

Length: 3,923 words.

* * *

"So, this is the one?" the old woman asked in a hushed voice to the older (if that was even possible—she looked so brittle Korra was afraid just touching her would break her. _This_ was her Waterbending instructor?) man with the grizzled grey beard standing next her. The woman didn't do much for the eyes, either. She was rather stout, wrinkles disrupting the smoothness of her sun-browned face like mountains. Her eyes, however, were a piercing blue, and they seemed to take everything in around her, eventually falling on Korra.

Korra marched straight up to the woman, ignoring her parents' muffled groans and half-hearted attempts to hold her back. They had insisted that she tie her hair back in an indigo headband, stuffing her into her best dress. Her protests fell on deaf ears as they struggled to force her soft leather moccasins on her dainty feet. It was an irritated Korra who approached the elderly lady, feet sliding slightly on the floor. She put her tiny hands on her even tinier hips, judging the teacher with critical, ice blue eyes. The woman stared back at her—straight in the eyes—with a content half-smile on her face, the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth turning up into miniature smiles as well. A strange sense of longing tore through her heart, and the little girl paused, attempting in vain to place it. The woman… She looked familiar. There was something oddly comforting about her, like a long-lost friend, almost as if she was meeting one of her long-dead grandmothers for the first time. Regaining her composure, Korra huffed, trying, futilely as always, to Airbend. The woman arched her dark brows in what Korra took as condescension.

With a swift moment, the young Avatar drew her arm back and bent the water out of the closest clay jug possible, hurtling it at the woman. It was bad enough that the elders judged her for not being able to Airbend, but this old hag—

Just as quickly, the woman bent the water with one hand as leisurely as if she were batting away a fly, promptly returning it to the young bender's head.

"Wha-what!" Korra spluttered, the ice cold water drenching her hair and running into her eyes. Blindly, she threw up her hands to rub her eyes, fuming at the laughter coming from the adults.

"It looks as if she's met her match," murmured her father behind his hand to her mother.

The old man cleared his throat, and everyone, including Korra, fell silent. She continued, however, to watch the old woman with distrustful eyes. If they expected her to learn from the witch, they were crazy! She was probably there to sabotage her training…

"…this is Katara, your Waterbending master," the man droned, gesturing feebly to the one he introduced. The old woman smiled, extending her head in a bow toward her student.

Meanwhile, Korra's thoughts were spinning. _What?_ The little voice in her demanded. She had heard of Katara. She was the teenager who, with no prior experience other than harassing her brother, had mastered Waterbending in about a month and a half. She had been the one who had revived the Avatar from assumed death, nursing him back to health. She had defeated the psychotic princess of the Fire Nation.

She had also been married to her previous incarnation.

An uneasy feeling wafted over Korra. _That's why I recognized her before. She was married to him before, and now…_

A twinge in her chest made her wince. She wondered if the woman was angry for having to teach her, for taking her husband away from her. The adults were speaking to each other, probably setting up a schedule for her training sessions, but Korra was lost, thinking, not for the first time, about the many others who had shared her soul, and those who would go on to share it.

But mostly she was curious about the man before her. When the elders had discovered her status, they had spoken in low tones about his legacy, being careful so that she could only catch snippets of their conversation. She had heard the basics of the story from her mother as a child, but she was aching to know the rest.

"Korra?" Katara asked, stepping forward. Unconsciously, the Avatar winced as the woman's weathered hand reached to fill the gap between their bodies, but the old woman only touched the headband with a touch light as a hummingbird's, her frail fingers ghosting along the silk. "That's a very pretty headband," she said, her mouth and eyes once again drawn up into a smile.

"But I am afraid that you cannot wear that to our practices, because it will definitely be damaged." This time she grinned.

After thinking a moment, Korra grinned back.

* * *

Their first practice together was not nearly as disastrous as anybody, including Korra, thought it would be. The young Avatar awoke when the blood-red sun was creeping across the sky, staining the ocean red. She tiptoed around her parents, closing the heavy wooden door softly behind her. She knew they had wanted to escort her to Katara's training grounds, but she was a big girl. She didn't need them to hold her hand forever.

"You're here early," Katara stated in surprise when she finally arrived at the top of the snowy hill that housed the building, the sun now a respectable difference from the shimmering cobalt water.

Korra only nodded, still wary of the woman. She seemed genial enough, but there was also a bit of mischief present in the back of her eyes. Trying to get her point across, she spread her slight legs out, putting her arms in front of her in a fighting stance. Katara observed, amusement evident on her face.

"So you want to get right to it, huh?"

Korra nodded shortly, her eyes focused on the horizon. Katara paced around her, arms clasped behind her back. Then, without warning, she nudged gently at Korra's feet. The little girl tumbled over, landing face-first in the slick, hard snow.

"What was that for?" she demanded, jumping immediately back to her feet. She scrambled on the packed snow, searching for a foothold. Katara assumed the same position her pupil had just been in, palms facing each other at her chest.

"Your legs weren't far enough apart. That's why you slid," she explained patiently. Korra stared at the woman in disbelief for a fraction of a second. Katara's eyes bore once more into her face, until she got the hint and resumed the stance, this time with the proper adjustments.

The woman beamed. "Much improved."

The next couple of days continued in this manner, with Katara assisting Korra in seemingly trivial things the child had never bothered with, strengthening her legs here, tightening her grip there, pulling her chin up there. Korra gritted her teeth and did as her master instructed her, silently bearing the monotony. _I must improve_, she repeated day to day. _I must improve._ Learning the fundamentals, she soon became aware, was key to improving.

"Okay," Katara said to her one day, stripping her hands of the dark blue woolen mittens that shielded them from the frigid temperatures of the South Pole. Korra was surprised to see that they were much like her own, with only a few wrinkles marring the surface of her brown skin. Katara, oblivious to Korra's studious gaze, assumed the basic fighting stance they had been perfecting for well over a week now, one leg angled slightly back behind the other. She raised one hand, palm out, to Korra, the other going behind her head.

"Now, what I am going to teach you now is fairly basic, but it will help you in a pinch if need be."

"And that is?" Korra asked politely.

"The Water Whip."

Slim fingers arching down towards the flowing water situated behind their practice space, the old master brought the water up behind her gracefully, funneling it out into a long, narrow ribbon of transparent blue. Then, turning sharply on her heel and leaving a dent in the snow, she spun around and struck the side of the building to her left, the water ricocheting back and then falling shapelessly to the ground.

"And you want me to do that?" Korra asked, disbelief apparent in her voice.

Katara smiled, not missing the tone. "Oh, but it is harder than you would think. Remember—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Korra interrupted, exasperated. "Form."

"Precisely."

Katara backed off a little, giving Korra a wide berth. When asked why, she simply said "I don't think I want to get hit", and Korra ground her teeth together once again.

Breathing out through her nostrils, Korra mimicked Katara's stance, the elderly woman nodding in approval from her distance. She repeated the same movements as her mentor, the rushing sound of water being pulled upward echoing from behind her. _I'm doing it!_ She thought in excitement, her concentration breaking. The water behind her followed suit, slopping to the snow unceremoniously with a hard _thwack_.

Dejected, the girl turned and glared at the shiny puddle. "There, now." Katara was approaching her from the right, looking, as usual, remarkably calm. Korra's learning process seemed to not have fazed her in the slightest, for she remained with the same expression on her face, unless she was scolding or comforting. This time, she was comforting. "It is not so easy. Now you are focusing on form as well, instead of simply _moving _the water." She placed her hands on Korra's shoulders, tilting her head so that the two were eye to eye, electric blue to bright blue. "You will get it," she assured her warmly, gently squeezing her shoulders.

Four tries later, though, Korra was at her limit both physically and emotionally, the anger building up and weighing on her stomach like a ton of bricks. She was a Waterbender by nature—she was supposed to have this come easily to her! All the other elements were going to be more difficult, sure, but not water!

And Katara did nothing to help, sitting on a wooden bench shouting "Form!" and "Concentration!" at her alternately. What was her deal? She was supposed to be the greatest master that had lived for over a century, and this was her method? Shouting at her from the sidelines? Was she too old to be able to help her in any actual way?

With a roar of frustration her hands went limp, closing her eyes. _I'm not going to cry,_ she chided herself, biting down on her lip to keep the stinging tears from pouring out of her eyes. _This is such a stupid thing to cry over why would I cry no I'm not going to cry._

"Korra," Katara sighed, crunching over to her young pupil. She had taught many benders, children and adults alike, but she had never found quite such a challenge as she did in this young Avatar. The girl's eyes were squeezed shut, her small hands balling into fists. She placed a motherly hand on her slim shoulder, speaking in a low voice. "Maybe we should go back to focusing on the stance, that might help—"

"No!" the Avatar bellowed, her eyes opening and her temper flaring. "I'm _sick_ of poses! All we ever _focus_ on is posture! How am I supposed to learn anything when you hang back there all the time, laughing as I fail!"

"Now, Korra," Katara said sternly. "I do not laugh at you, and you are definitely not failing. You just need to try to think more of the spiritual aspect of bending. Try imagining that the water is an extension of yourse—"

"No!" the girl shouted again, stamping her foot. "I'm tired of this! I need to be able to _protect_ people and fight the people that are hurting them, not _spiritualize_ them!" she sneered the last sentence, her face turning crimson in her heat.

"I don't want to take classes anymore! You clearly can't teach me, and I'd be better off finding someone who's capable of teaching me. So just… just back off. I don't want your help. I don't need it, either."

Korra ran off, the wind and tears trickling down her face smarting. The guilt she felt pressing against her, however, hurt more.

* * *

"Korra."

"Go away."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I said go away."

Her mother heaved a sigh, the sound wearing on her daughter's nerves. Currently the girl had her round face buried in the calming softness of her pillow, the unshed tears threatening to break free at any moment. She pulled at the pillowcase, uselessly trying to suppress the anger she felt towards her master.

"I'm coming in anyway," her mother informed her, doing that exact thing.

Korra rolled onto her side, the bed protesting slightly. Folding her arms across her chest, she gave her mother the cold shoulder as the woman plopped herself on the bed. More groaning. Great, she was going to need a new bed after the day was over.

"Look, everyone has their way of teaching. Katara _is_ helping you. She just wants you to find some things out for yourself. That's the way she taught me, after all."

"Taught _you?" _Korra asked in wonder. She rolled her head to the side where her mother was sitting to see the woman nod in the affirmative. Sitting up and bouncing slightly, Korra eyed her mother.

"She taught me and your father. That's how we met, actually." Her mother went misty-eyed as she reminisced.

"Mom," Korra interjected, snapping her out of her reverie.

The woman shook her head, dark brown hair swinging. "Sorry, honey," she laughed, standing up from the little bed. "But she is a good teacher. She taught Avatar Aang himself, you know."

Kissing her daughter on the forehead, she exited the room before peeking her head back around the doorframe. "And just so you know, I wasn't expecting this kind of thing from you until you were a teenager. I hope you aren't this angsty then."

Korra rolled her eyes, rolling over so she was on her back. _She taught my former self, _she mused, her eyelids fluttering shut against her will. They had felt heavy all day, what with the shameful tears she had shed. _Maybe… If I try to think like him… I can learn?_

_But what was he like?_

* * *

The next day Korra ventured to Katara's home, the same headband she had worn when they first met trapping her hair. She had felt the need to apologize, and she knew it would be extremely presumptuous of her in the first place to go back to Katara like nothing had ever happened. She rapped her knuckled on the door three times, taking a step back.

"Yes?" Katara opened the door and looked around, seeing no one. Shrugging, she began to close the door, when—

"Down here."

Glancing down, she spotted her former student, who barely came up to her waist, glaring at her petulantly. Chuckling to herself, she pressed her back flat against the door, ushering Korra into her home.

After receiving some tea in a porcelain tea set decorated with tiger lilies and roses, Korra sat awkwardly at Katara's table, perched on the edge of her plush cushioned seat. Wide-eyed, she took in her surroundings as Katara busied herself at the stove, doing her best not to get caught. Katara's home was, well, homey. The walls were painted a bright, cheerful color with lamps giving off a warm glow in every corner. The kitchen was filled with mouthwatering aromas as the elder Waterbender stirred something in a pot, humming tunelessly to herself. Gaze wandering to the other living areas, Korra's eyes alit on a faded scroll hung on the sunshine wall over an antique looking end table. Squinting, Korra leaned further forward in her chair, trying to discern what was on the scroll.

"That's from my wedding," said a soft voice right beside her ear.

Korra jumped, her face flushing in embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, dropping her head forward in shame for having been caught peeking. Katara chortled, pouring more steaming tea into a cup for Korra and offering her a plate of sweets. Sitting herself down, she clasped her hands together in front and rested her chin on them, gazing at her student thoughtfully. "And why is it that you came here, Korra?"

"I…" she hesitated before taking a deep breath. The next words came out all on this one breath. "I… wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday. It… was very rude and I'm so, so sorry for everything I said to you." She cringed as her voice broke on the last word, bowing her head once more.

"I see…" the old woman mused pensively. "Is that all?"

"I… yes."

"Really? You don't want me to continue being your teacher?"

"Well… Well, I do, but, it's your choice. I wouldn't want to have a student as disrespectful as me."

Katara smiled kindly at the girl. "Korra, you may have been disrespectful, but you were very adult in coming to me and apologizing. I once knew a man who said that most people, adults and children, do not know how to apologize, but you… You know how to apologize. I'm sure he would have been happy."

"Was that man your husband?"

Korra groaned inwardly and drooped in her seat. The words had tumbled out of her mouth without a second thought, and the look of surprise on Katara's face made her think the question was not welcome.

But the old woman only shook her head. "He was the uncle of my friend. He was a very wise man, and he loved his tea." She winked at the youth over the rim of her teacup.

The two Waterbenders sat in silence awhile longer, Korra working up the nerve to complete the second task she had come here with. "Sifu Katara?"

"Yes?"

"What was your husband like?"

The old Waterbender set her cup on its matching plate with a clink. She eyed the girl sitting across from her curiously, and, not for the first time, Korra felt as if she were trying to see inside of her.

"He was a very remarkable person," she said at last. "He did things I had only dreamed about, and he let me be able to do things I would have never hoped to be able to, as well."

"But," Korra persisted, "What was he like… In learning?"

"Learning? He was kind of a slacker, really." Katara laughed. "But things came quickly to him, especially Waterbending. Earthbending was another story, and fire was trickier, but he made it through." Seeing the crestfallen look on Korra's face, she hurried on. "But you have to understand, Korra. The spiritual side of bending came easier for him than for you. This may be because he was an Airbender; it may be for other reasons. You can't compare yourself to him. He was more inclined to be goofy, and he was a very carefree soul. So water and air came easily to him, because they flow. They follow their own paths and need some prodding to be controlled. Fire and earth were difficult for him because they were much more brutal and demanding. I think, with you, it will be the reverse."

"So… I'll get the hang of it?"

"Eventually, yes. I think that as soon as you master the Water Whip you will find Waterbending to be much easier for you."

The little girl beamed, and, on an impulse, embraced her mentor. The old woman's plump body stiffened in shock for a moment before she rested a hand on Korra's hair. "I think you will go further than you think, Korra. And just remember, there will always be others who came before you to assist you."

She wasn't sure what that meant, but in that instant, she didn't really care.

* * *

The next night, Korra had a strange dream. When she opened her eyes, she was in a murky forest, the trees climbing higher than she had ever thought possible, seeming to touch the endless blue sky. She tentatively took a step into the thicket of trees, and then another. Squaring her shoulders, she resumed at a much steadier pace.

The forest was eerily quiet, not even the sound of a bird or the wind disturbing the still air. Finally, Korra shattered the silence herself, speaking up.

"Hello?" she called.

"Is anybody in here?"

She paused in her trek when she came to a riverbank. The water was chugging along slowly, seemingly in no hurry to get anywhere. She glared into it, but it didn't seem too deep; so she stuck a foot in. The clear liquid sloshed almost up to her thigh. Sticking the other in, she shuddered. It was icy and nearly unbearable, but there was no other way to go. She proceeded.

After about ten minutes in which she got her feet stuck in mud and managed to scare off several very colorful fish, she arrived at the other shore. She squelched through the ankle-deep mud on the other side, feeling it seep into the thin soles of her shoes and get caught between her toes. She wiggled them, trying unsuccessfully to get the mud out. Grumbling to herself, she sat on the thick grass, removing her shoes to pick the mud out herself. It was at this time that the stranger appeared.

"And who are you?"

The man was tall with sky blue arrows tattoos wrapped around his body, two arrows peeking out of his sleeves on his hands, and one that was hard to miss ending just above his greying black eyebrows. Furthermore, he was bald, though he had a sturdy grey beard extending nearly to his chest. He was ensconced in robes of warm shades of orange and yellow, brown peeking through in some places. Korra looked at him warily.

"Do I know you?"

The old man smiled widely at her and then bowed. "I don't think you do, miss. But I know you."

Korra bit into her lip, looking up and down the silent riverbank. This man was very eccentric, and her parents had always told her never to talk to the strangers who occasionally visited the South Pole. If anyone ever tried to harm her, she was to scream as loudly as she could. Her heart sank as she realized that she could scream all she wanted, but she and this old man were likely the only ones around in a one-mile radius.

He laughed like he could read her thoughts, maintaining his distance. Tucking his arms into the overlong sleeves of his robe, he regarded her. "I will stay back here, if it makes you more comfortable."

"Good," she agreed.

He watched her with his gay grey eyes, still smiling. Examining him, she felt the lingering fear begin to dissipate. He really meant her no harm, even if he was a little odd. She began to pick at her toes again, cleaning the mud out.

"So you're the next incarnation," the old man said softly, more to himself than to her.

"How—"

"If you weren't, you wouldn't be here. Very few humans ever come here, and when they do, it's usually not of their own free will."

He surveyed her, his face expressionless. She looked defiantly back, her fingers clenching her clammy toes tightly. After several moments had passed in this silent stare-down, he relaxed. He grinned at her again, stepping forward with his arms outstretched.

"You'll do very well, I think." He touched her cheek briefly, his hand surprisingly warm and smooth. Then, showing her his back, he vanished.

In her sleep, Korra smiled.

* * *

**End Note**:Whoa, this was not supposed to be this long _at all_. I really just wanted to explore Korra's relationship with Katara and kind of… ran with it.

Korra may have come across as a bit of a brat, but I think that, with the way they Lotus members were less than enthusiastic about her, she was kind of tired of old people judging her. I get the feeling she and Katara had a granddaughter/ grandmother thing going on, especially with Katara's grandkids not even leaving anywhere near her, so yeah. Also, Katara's teaching style may have seemed a bit off, but in most of her teaching scenes with Aang he already knew the poses—they just had to correct them and blah, blah, blah.

I would really appreciate feedback on this, and if anyone thinks it's too rambly, I'll try to cut some of it out, ha ha.

**EDIT: **Reread it to fix some grammar issues/ add a bit more description. Nothing too huge, though.


End file.
